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'Soul Men' review

Photos ocurtesy of The Weinstein Co.Bernie Mac, left, and Samuel L. Jackson in a scene from "Soul Men."

The late, great Bernie Mac deserves better than this profanity packed pic

STATEN ISLAND, N.Y. -- The one, explicit reason for this film's being was the opportunity it presented to finally get Samuel L. Jackson and Bernie Mac in a movie together, and that should've been reason enough.

The two actors -- longtime acquaintances in real life -- have all kinds of chemistry together on screen here as two aging, washed up soul singers from "back in the day," and whenever the camera satisfies itself with just keeping this duo in frame the results are effortless fun.

Sadly, the rest of "Soul Men" resembles nothing so much as a long-lost episode of "The Jeffersons" (one 1970s TV sitcom that most assuredly has not stood the test of time), with jokes that are simply too painful to repeat here.

To suggest that Sam and Bernie deserve a better movie, however, is an exercise in futility, given that the latter died this past Aug. 9 at the age of 50 ("Soul Men" represents his second-to-last on-screen performance in a film).

Further escalating the surreal element surrounding this motion picture, the soul singer Isaac Hayes, who also appears in the film, died the day after Mac, at age 65. Samuel L. is 59 and doing just fine, but we'd look both ways before crossing the street if we were him.

Mac, Isaac Hayes and Jackson.

"Soul Men"
2 stars
This film is rated R for pervasive (and we do mean pervasive) language, and sexual content including nudity. 103 min.

Jackson and Mac play Louis and Floyd, respectively, in "Soul Men," two singers who reunite for a tribute performance after the third member of their group, played by John Legend, dies. Like we said, surreal -- one scene in the movie even features Mac in a coffin with Legend's "corpse."

Now retired, Floyd is wasting away in a sterile California suburb, his days filled with golf and his nights with those little purple pills with the "V" printed on them. A chance to perform for one last night at the Apollo Theatre back in Harlem gets him interested again, but the surly Louis (yes, this is Jackson in full-on surly mode) doesn't share his enthusiasm.

"You got a pantry full of dog food, only I don't see no dog," says Floyd as he peruses the dump Louis calls home. This exchange eventually contains more utterances of the "m word" than we've ever heard in a five-minute span.

A word for virgin ears: "Soul Men" features more profanity than any movie except perhaps "Goodfellas," and we're not sure exactly why.

Ultimately -- in fact, rather quickly once he learns that money may be involved -- Louis gives in, and he and his erstwhile partner embark on a road trip in Floyd's lime green 1971 Cadillac El Dorado. Road-trip cliches quickly ensue.

It's in Tulsa, Okla., where the two catch up with Cleo (Sharon Leal), the daughter of a woman, now deceased, who had carnal relations with both men. Which one of them might be Cleo's father? Still more cliches erupt, like pustules of narrative acne.

A handful of reputable actors, appearing in smaller parts, fairly embarrass themselves here, particularly the evidently shameless Jennifer Coolidge as a floozy Floyd picks up at a bar in Amarillo, Texas, for a night of -- well, we shudder to recall what transpires, but dentures are involved.

We were more than relieved when "Soul Men" wound down to its conclusion (with pleasant tributes to both Mac and Hayes). This is not anything resembling a good movie, by any definition.

But watching Samuel L. Jackson and the late Bernie Mac riff off each other never gets old. Many years from now, if "Soul Men" is remembered at all (and we can't imagine how it possibly could be), it will be mildly treasured for capturing two talented performers very much on their game.